


Stories of the Second Self: Tabula Rasa

by John_Steiner



Series: Alter Idem [44]
Category: Urban Fantasy - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22533430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/John_Steiner/pseuds/John_Steiner
Summary: In one of his sleepless nights Father Cord attended to basic cleaning of his church with most post-Alter Idem Catholic churches wouldn't be open at night. However, he took it at a sign that he was right to do so when one of the long lost from his returned asking to give her confession and for absolution.
Series: Alter Idem [44]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618813





	Stories of the Second Self: Tabula Rasa

Straightening his collar, Father Cord approached the church doors. It was almost midnight and no other catholic church would be open this hour, nor would his except for a personal need for absolution.

Once unlocked, Father Cord parted the doors without a sound. He'd personally seen to the maintenance of the hinges to be sure not to reenact old horror flicks. Plus, that incident with the vampire church made every other denomination in Cincinnati more image-conscience in that regard.

Cord paced down the Nave to the back of the church to the storeroom. He pulled out the dust mop and started on the floor. With continuing unrest throughout the city he couldn't be sure if the volunteer cleaning would get done when their family's safety couldn't be guaranteed.

After around forty minutes, Father Cord had swept the floors throughout most of the church's hard floors, and then headed back for the mop bucket and floor wax. However, he was stopped short on seeing one of his congregants entering the front doors of the church.

"Father Cord?" Grace Carpenter called out.

Grace was a police officer with several years on the force in Cincinnati, and up until a couple years ago a semi-regular in church. In that time he'd not seen her once for service, let alone confession. However, on her face he read the need for absolution as rare as he'd seen as a priest.

"Grace, it's good to see you again," Cord answered warmly, and set the mop handle against the wall.

"I know it's late, but would it be possible for you hear my confession?" Grace asked.

"How did you know I was here at this hour?" Cord asked.

"I just happened to pass by and saw the lights on," Grace answered.

Waving at the booth, Cord replied, "Alright, it's perfectly acceptable."

Cord opened the right side door as Grace entered the other. After sitting down, Cord slid open the window between them, where the elaborate woodwork in the window created sufficient visual obstruction, especially when he leaned against the back of the booth.

"It's been a long time, sister, so feel free to take pauses if you need to," Father Cord consoled, figuring that something grave weight on her mind.

"Yes Father," Grace replied, "Forgive me, for I have sinned. It's been twenty-five months, two weeks, and four days since my last confession."

"Continue sister," Cord answered.

"Father-- I, ah," Grace did give herself a moment, and resumed, "In my last confession I spoke of feeling wrath. It's still something I struggle with."

"Is this general anger or directed at someone specific?" Cord asked.

"A little of both," Grace was slow to clarify. "I don't know if you remember, but I spoke of my distrust and anger toward those who have become angels among us."

Cord had a vague recollection. "Remind me, please."

"I had responded to a call of a robbery in progress," Grace explained, "One of the suspects was an angel, and he had used his wings to shield himself from my weapon. He had murdered a victim in reprisal."

"I am sorry about that," Cord responded with sincerity, starting to remember this both from the news of the time and Grace's own struggles with it.

"Ever since," Grace paused again, made a noise which hinted at her inward strife, and went on, "Every time I see one of them, I can't help but think they're going to do something evil. I know the Church doesn't yet have an official position on this, but I believe they're all fallen, Father."

"I can understand that sentiment, child," Father Cord affirmed, and included in his caveat. "However, we have to guard ourselves from judgement, even with angels. All human beings are born with sin, but we cannot assume all will choose to commit wanton sin without conscience or consequence. The last Annual Vatican Council on the Alter Idem phenomena have so far left the matter of most Pentacastes unresolved."

"Yes Father," Grace acknowledged, "Which is part of why I wish to confess my loathing of them."

"You have been forced to stop humans from violence, yes?" Cord asked.

"Yes Father," Grace answered.

"This includes people other than women? People who are not white?" Father Cord expanded on his query.

"Yes Father," Grace affirmed again.

"Do you assume that men will all be violent? Do you believe Black or Hispanic citizens of this city will steer themselves toward criminal wrongdoing because of that?" Cord crafted his point.

"Father, they're still human," Grace reminded, "With the angels, psychologists on the department are finding that angels gravitate toward extremes in their behaviors."

"All sinful or criminal or otherwise negative?" Cord wondered.

"No, but...," Grace cut her answer short.

Cord started to feel he was getting something across. "Yet, you react as if all of them lean in that direction."

"I can't say my feelings make sense, but I have them nonetheless," Grace clarified, "And even with better angels it's often hard to distinguish them from the worst."

"Do you think it's this first case you encountered that has affected how you view others?" Cord asked the leading question.

"I admit it's a factor, but there is more I wish to confess on," Grace hinted.

"Proceed," Father Cord prompted.

"It's what I've done since I was away," Grace started, and paused to breathe the tension he could hear within her. "Ah, I've compromised my integrity as a police officer."

"In what way?" Cord's curiosity heightened.

"Are you familiar with someone named Delane Henry, Father?" Grace first floated in preface.

"The name's familiar," Cord recalled gradually, "He's in real estate, is he not? There are some rumors about him no longer being human, but he's not often seen in public."

"He's, ah...," Grace halted and thought about it before speaking again, "He's a vampire, and that's not the worst of it."

"I see," Cord sighed with a nod to himself. "On this matter the Church has reached a conclusion. His soul cannot be redeemed. So far, I've not heard of vampires being able to turn anyone, but I would warn against accepting such an offer if it's ever made."

"I am mindful of that, but no, he has not offered and I don't plan on accepting," Grace spelled out, "However, he is also involved in the occult. He's what is known as a Bokor, a priest of the voodoo tradition. He also has other activities which are not accepted by society outside of his being a vampire."

Cord figured Grace would've wanted to explain what that meant, but he could hear in her voice something akin to a refusal to incriminate. "If it treads on the law, that is a matter beyond Holy Mother Church. On moral grounds outside the laws are all that I can speak on with you."

"Thank you Father," Grace's response confirmed for him there was more than spoken. "I've-- many of us on the force have had to address the realities of hopefully restoring order in the city. Part of that is prioritizing how we enforce Cincinnati criminal code, and which infractions to focus on most."

"I understand," Father Cord again nodded. "I can see how this would be a personal struggle. There are things which happen before us to witness that we would be morally obliged to act against. Yet, practicality may not always permit for us. Good intentions alone aren't enough to ensure we're doing the right thing. Try as one might, they may be powerless to stop an evil and possibly add to the harm done. 'L'enfer est plein de bonnes volontés ou désirs' as Virgil warns. Not strictly biblical, to be sure, and yet prescient all the same."

"Delane Henry's craft," Grace alluded to and then revealed, "I've become a student of sorts of his dark arts."

"When you say dark arts, are you referring to this growing occurrence of magic or the intent for which it's used?" Cord asked in careful consideration.

"I learned it as part of-- of an understanding," Grace carefully phrased, "And because it offers me another tool in police work," at which point Grace's speaking quickened with the possibilities, "I can retrieve memories of the recently deceased, it provides me a way to find evidence conventional means wouldn't, and that could be admissible, but...."

"But," Cord finished for her, "It's an unearthly power that doesn't come from God, and so you fear it's of Lucifer."

"Yes Father, that's it exactly," Grace admitted.

"With it, you wish to do right by your fellow and bring justice to the unjust," Cord added. "You wish to do the Lord's work."

It wasn't an inquiry on Cord's part, for he heard it in her voice, and Grace affirmed heartedly. "Yes, I do very much."

"Your motives are at least as important as your good works, but insufficient," Cord at first warned, but then offered in hope, "However, in the end we have only their fruits by which to know the Lord's own. Matthew Seven, Verse Sixteen. Is there more you wish to express?"

"Uhh, yes," Grace answered, and again paused, "It's about that first angel. After-- after I killed him, and other officers arrived on the scene something happened I can't explain."

"Something about this crime, or within?" Cord wondered.

"I grew angry," Grace answered, and then expounded, "More than anger. A rage, like I had never felt. I... ah, I needed to be restrained by other cops. It's hard to say what happened, but after grabbing one of them he was bleeding and terrified. He wasn't afraid of me as a police officer or a person wishing to hurt him. He saw something in me that goes beyond worldly fears. I think it's like how someone would be afraid of a wild animal."

"Animals are without sin," Cord reminded, "So it's acknowledged by the Church that the rage of an animal isn't equal to the wrath of humankind. There may be science that wishes to refute this, but we see the killing by people as unique and apart from that which an animal does. We choose whether we kill or let live."

"But Father, what if that line of separation no longer exists for some of us?" Grace was testing the waters, he could tell, and seemed reluctant to specify with clarity.

"Alter Idem has done a lot of strange things to people," Cord consoled, "Yet, for most of us we're still people. Whether we grow to huge stature, sprout nonhuman features, or tap into the arcane rather than choose the sanctity of His miracles and His Word, sin has not changed. If it was revealed tomorrow to His Holiness the Pope that unicorns became real and were also burdened with original sin, we would have to concede and teach such creatures the path to absolution."

"Do you think the Vatican will accept the supernatural among us as worthy of redemption?" Grace asked with an extra air of longing.

"I believe so," Cord answered, nodding with faith in his words. "The angel, the werewolf, the Fae, and the giant likely will be welcomed in the Lord's presence as surely as human beings. Though, the Lord God will surely keep an eye on the werewolf."

He heard Grace release a subtle chuckle, and he grinned at the witticism before asking, "Is there more you wish to confess."

"I've used bad language, including His name in vain," Grace then listed more common sins. "I've lusted in my heart, I- ah this I'm not sure what to make of it, but I probably eat more than I should. It's been a struggle more now, and I wonder if that's due to the other things, and I occasionally have been judgmental of others."

"You've come back to His love after a long time," Father Cord built up in preparation, "You are heartfelt in your faith and forthright in your admissions. I commit you to three Hail Mary's and four Our Father's. Dues, Pater misericordiárum, qui per mortem et resurrectiónem Fílii sui mundum sibi reconciliávit et Spíritum Sanctum effúdit in remissiónem peccatórum, per ministérium Ecclésiæ indulgéntiam tibi tríbuat et pacem. Et ego te absolvo a peccatis tuis in nomine Patris, et Fílii, et Spiritus Sancti."

It was decided by the Vatican to bring back the old Latin rite of absolution, given that it was now an age where incantations brought tangible results in the physical world.

"Amen," Grace added, and lowered her head. "Thank you, Father, for everything."

"You are most welcome," Cord replied.

Grace exited the booth with a surprising swiftness. Something in the disturbed air caught Cord's attention, cause him to ponder what he nose was telling him.

Once Grace had left the church, Father Cord, still in the booth, remarked, "Now that is interesting. And here I thought I alone struggled with that line of separation."


End file.
